


After All

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Language, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, agent coulson - Freeform, voices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: The voice in Tony's head is not his own.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Untitled](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/265658) by theappleppielifestyle. 



Tony’s internal voice doesn’t _sound_ like him.

His voice is all edges and sharpness, hard-hit consonants. His enunciation is very precise. He knows because he spent the first decade of his life being taught how to speak clearly and confidently.

The voice in his head is different. Deeper. It’s easy, almost drawling—which Tony has tried his damndest to fix, it is insanely difficult to learn proper diction when the voice in your head refuses to match it—and has this hint of a Brooklyn accent that Tony finds mystifying.

It’s not until he’s fifteen that he learns it’s not normal for one’s inner voice to sound different from one’s outer voice.

He’s fifteen when he learns that the voice in his head is the voice of his soulmate.

 

~ * ~

 

Twenty comes and goes and Tony figures he’s still got time for that soulmate to show up, he’s young, and there are plenty of other pretty people to keep him occupied in the mean time.

He’s less optimistic when his thirtieth birthday rolls by and there’s still no sign of his supposed soulmate. He’s still enjoying spreading himself around and seeing what’s out there, but there’s a part of him he tries to shunt to the back of his mind that aches at the sound of his own thoughts.

By forty, Tony’s given up entirely. He’s read everything there is to read about soulmates and apparently it’s possible to go through life without ever meeting yours. Some people hear a voice in their heads that never comes to fruition because the person kicks it as a kid or whatever. That voice in that person’s head is all that remains of them. Tony had been skeptical about those anecdotes, because how the hell do you know your soulmate’s dead if you never meet them? But there have been a couple cases where somebody heard a recording and recognized the voice instantly only to discover the horrible truth. It doesn’t take much when you’ve heard something your entire life.

So Tony guesses his soulmate died somewhere along the way. That’s fine. He’s done pretty well for himself, considering, if you discount a few major missteps along the way. No one has to know about the way his chest burns when he sees other ‘mated couples.

He’s got a reputation to uphold anyhow.

 

~ * ~

 

When he’s forty-two, Tony gets a call from Agent, and the only thing he says is: “ _We’ve got someone we’d like you to show around._ ”

Tony bitches and moans and shows up twenty minutes late, but he shows up, because Agent is good people.

He tips his sunglasses down so he can look over the rims at him, one hand fiddling with the nuts and bolts he’s got in his pocket—he’s not sure how they got there in the first place. “So?” he says. “Who’s the special gal or guy S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to pay my very, _very_ pricey hourly consultant fee to escort around? Does this mean you’re dabbling in prostitution? I’ve never been a prostitute, this could be fun.”

“You are not under any circumstances to do anything that might be considered prostitution,” Agent says sternly and Tony grins at him. He beckons Tony forward with a crooked finger and leads him through a door in to a drab gray lounge. Everything at S.H.I.E.L.D. is drab and gray. “Captain Rogers?” he calls.

A tall blond man with eyes the color of the California sky and broad, _broad_ shoulders, Mary mother of God, steps through a doorway in the opposite wall and Tony says, without meaning to, “Hel- _lo_.”

The man’s features widen and slacken in a boyish expression of shock. He touches his temple and takes half a step forward. “You—that’s what it sounds like.”

Tony processes the words first and replies, “That’s what what sounds like?” and then _hears_ it and his jaw drops. “Oh my god.”

“What’s happening?” Agent says, wary.

“You’re my soulmate,” Tony blurts.

“Oh no,” Agent says.

“I thought you were _dead._ ”

Rogers blinks, something like wonder on his face. “I kind of was.” He tilts his head forward just a hair and smiles crookedly, shyly. “Soulmates; is that what they’re calling it now?”

“Now,” Tony repeats and then everything comes together all at once. Captain Rogers, tall, blond, and broad, S.H.I.E.L.D., _now_ , holy shit, his soulmate is _Captain Goddamn America. “_ You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“I’ve got to report this to Fury,” Agent sighs. Tony’s barely aware of him exiting the room.

Forty _years_ he had to wait, because his soulmate is CAPTAIN FRICKING AMERICA and he was frozen in some godforsaken iceberg in Antarctica. Although, he supposes it’s good the guy wasn’t defrosted when he was like, a toddler or something, when his half-crazed dad had been hoofing it around every summer looking for him, because that would be weird, and gross, and weird, and _Jesus,_ he’s somehow simultaneously cradle robb _er_ and cradle rob _ee_ in this scenario.

“Um,” Rogers says, and scratches at his forehead, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. “No?” His shoulders start to hunch like he’s trying to make himself smaller and it’s _adorable_ and Tony wants it to stop.

“You sure took your sweet time. Any longer and this,” he gestures between them, “would be way creepy.”

Rogers looks at him with wide eyes for a second and then starts to smile and it’s the sweetest thing Tony’s ever seen. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he says sincerely. “This isn’t where I expected to find you.”

Tony lets out a burst of surprised laughter. “Not in your wildest dreams.”

He shakes his head. “Not even.”

Rogers closes the distance between them then and Tony feels the prickle of excitement along every nerve. He can’t believe how much better the voice sounds in reality, how perfect every intonation is. He can’t believe he’d _given up._ “Hi,” Rogers says, face schooled into a serious expression, and holds out a hand. “Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you.”

Tony can’t help the stupid grin that spreads across his face as he reaches out and takes it. “Tony Stark. It’s a pleasure.”

“It sure is,” Steve murmurs and squeezes his hand.


End file.
